I Could Have Told You That
by Paceismyhero
Summary: "And even though it did feel like sophomore/junior year all over again, it was also different. Like, she wasn't obsessed with Finn this time and he wasn't just humoring her or hoping just to bang her." Futurefic set in the season 6 time period (with everything from previous seasons holding true). Puck's POV and rated M for language and minor sexual content. Please read and review!
1. Part 1 of 3

**Authors' Note:** So this is something I was working on like crazy for awhile (because it started with just the first part as a drabble and then spiraled REALLY out of control considering its length) but then stopped. Now I'm posting the first half (more like first third, probably) to hopefully motivate me to finish the rest because I really did want this to be done and up before the actual final season started.

I'm a little clueless about the timeline on the actual show because I stopped watching something in the middle of season 3 and really stopped paying attention by the end of 4, but I tried to do my research and get it right. Either way, this is my play on season 6, with everything from the previous seasons holding true - Finn dying, Rachel making it on Broadway and then leaving to do TV in LA, Puck and Quinn getting back together (though I've completely killed that during the time jump from where the story begins).

Regardless, I hope you enjoy the snapshots I've created and I promise to finish/post the last part as soon as I can (my goal is Christmas). As always, thank you for those who still bother following me/my stuff. You guys rock. :)

* * *

"I know, Ma. I will. Okay. I remember. Yeah. Yes. Okay. I will. I am. Okay. Love you, too. Yeah. _Yes_. Sorry. Okay. _Bye!_"

Puck couldn't get the front door closed fast enough, releasing a heavy sigh into the cool night air the second there was a barrier between him and his mother's incessant talking. He loved her, of course, and owed her more than he even really liked to think about, but he'd reached his limit. This was his third time living at home, and so far it hadn't been a charm. On the contrary, it was a daily reminder of everything he'd managed to screw up in his so-called adult life.

His steps away from the house were quick and strong, partially to ensure his mom didn't follow him and partially because it was October in Ohio. He wasn't exactly sure where he was headed (story of his life), but luckily it was Lima and his options were limited. Plus, he was 110% sure he needed a drink, and somewhere where no one would bother him, so that narrowed it down even further. Within five minutes he'd walked to the part of town that was just off the main drag, pulling open the heavy wooden door of a local dive bar that was frequented by almost no one but still managed to stay in business somehow. He found a stool somewhere near the end and ordered a Jameson on the rocks. His first thought afterward was how nice it was to be old enough to drink legally - though the bar probably wasn't the type of place that would have carded him regardless. Secondly, even though he was exhausted and wanted to unwind and order at least three more of the same thing, he had to consider that he was barely making more than minimum wage at Burt's tire shop and couldn't exactly afford to binge.

Then again, he _was_ in Lima and there weren't exactly an abundant amount of other things worth spending his money on outside of booze. Other than maybe his own place. Legit, he was totally grateful his mom let him move back in _again_. And they got along fine, even more than usual because she'd never really treated him like a kid and he could finally appreciate how hard she'd worked to keep their family afloat all those years. So he helped out around the house and with Sarah and stuff, but he would honestly kill himself if he was still there this time next year; he was already starting to feel like the loser he'd always wanted to avoid becoming, and that kind of damning evidence would just be the nail in the coffin. It was hard enough being the only person left who hadn't already chalked it up to being a done deal.

Well, him and maybe _her_.

Puck watched Rachel take a few hesitant steps into the bar, then sit at the very first stool in almost the same exact manner he had - more just falling into the seat, so overcome with exhaustion and what he knew on him was depression that it was like he would have fallen to the floor from being so beaten down by life if the stool hadn't been there. She managed a small smile when she ordered quietly, the bartender handing her the large glass of water before working on something stronger. He watched her take the buzzing cell phone that she'd let fall onto the bar back into her palm and then directly into the glass, the mobile device bobbing for a few seconds before it quickly sank to the bottom. She sighed heavily and accepted her cocktail from the bartender, and she must have heard his light laughter because her eyes lifted quickly and met his. And despite each of their respective bad moods, they both smiled and managed to silently coordinate meeting in the middle of the bar.

"I didn't know you were in town," he started with, using his drink to buy him some time when she'd just shrugged and sighed into her own sip. "Just visitin' or …?"

"LA wasn't what I thought it was going to be," she admitted solemnly, sounding as lost as she looked.

"I could have told you that."

He was smiling because he loved how they could just skip all the small talk bullshit and get to the meat of matter, though he wasn't sure if it was because it was so unlike Rachel to skip _anything_ when it came to talking or if it was because he'd come here not to talk at all. It didn't really matter, though, because he could see her pissy attitude about to come back, so he nudged her leg with his and downshifted to a smirk that hopefully let her know he wasn't judging but rather just lending his own kind of support; Los Angeles certainly hadn't been his dream come true, nor was anything else he'd tried in the recent past. If anyone could empathize with floundering, it was him.

"So what's next?"

"I'm not sure," she breathed out, her fingers fanning through her hair before she rested her elbow against the bar top and supported her head against her hand. "Daddy thinks I should take some time off, but I'm not exactly the type of person who can just sit around doing _nothing_."

"You?" He joked, finishing off his drink and pointing at both of their glasses to indicate a refill for each of them. She smiled at him gratefully, and he took some pride in her willingness to hang around with him some more - maybe he wasn't a lost cause after all. Then again, two more drinks later and he wasn't entirely sure if she was staying because she enjoyed his company or the shit he couldn't stop himself from saying.

"S'horseshit. I had no beef with Trouty for scammin' on Q, but he still hates me for something that happened before he was even at McKinley." Puck huffed, swirling the ice in his glass. "I never even slept with 'Cedes, but Sam took the whole thing _way_ too seriously."

"I think we _all_ took high school way too seriously," she commented, moving her straw from one side of the glass and then the other. "So you went to New York after … the whole Quinn thing?"

"Just for a visit." He shook his head. "S'not the place for me. Not now, anyway."

She nodded and he might have anticipated the question if he wasn't finishing off the last of his fourth whiskey. "What happened with Quinn, if you don't mind me asking?" She paused for just a second, sounding less bashful when she added, "Kurt is a terrible source for the truth."

"Preach." He still remembered once when he'd thought Finn and Rachel had sex because of something Kurt had said and it turned out the guy was talking about an actual garden; Puck had thought he was just being a nerd and using the old flower metaphor for virginity. "I don't know." He sighed when she just looked at him, and wished he had another drink for after he admitted the truth. "I think we both just thought it was something that it never was."

She smiled softly, resting her hand on his knee before giving him the same look he remembered giving her earlier in the night. "I could have told you that."

He chuckled at her observation, but left it at that - mostly because it had only been a few weeks since he left Connecticut and he was still kind of pissed he'd went into the whole thing so blindly in the first place. He'd had genuine feelings for Quinn and he knew she'd felt the same, but they just weren't a good match and they were both too stupid to see that before they ended up ruining everything - his career in the military and their friendship, to name a couple. "I should head out. Work tomorrow."

She nodded shyly, then checked her watch with wide eyes. "I can't believe it's past midnight."

"Is this past your bedtime?" He asked while sliding his arms into his jacket, a smile on his lips. "You did just turn 21, right? Not 12?"

"Shut up," she laughed, pushing him in the shoulder and covering her mouth with her hand to hide her increased amusement when he actually bobbled on his feet. "At least I went to Breadstix with my fathers and not Chuck E. Cheese's."

"It was _Sarah's_ birthday, not mine. And, believe me, neither of us wanted to be there."

She pulled on her coat and flipped her hair out of the back, Puck trying not to see the whole thing in slow motion but blaming the alcohol nonetheless. "I can't believe she's in high school now." Her voice was full of wonder, and they shared a look that held way too much history in it. He walked ahead of her just to break the stare, but held the door open after he exited and waited until she was outside with him before making any motion to leave.

"This was fun, Noah."

"Yeah."

"Even if I _did_ come all the way out here to avoid running into anyone who could possibly know me."

He chuckled then, nodding more. "Me, too." Then he looked up, his expression and voice holding a little less amusement than before. "But, ya know, this wasn't bad."

"Yeah," she echoed, her eyes eventually falling to her feet for a few moments before landing back on him. "Maybe we can not plan to meet up again?"

"Should I call ya?" He laughed at his own joke, but chuckled more when she caught on; it had taken almost the whole night, but he did finally get her to admit that she might have been a little dramatic about needing a break from people calling her. "How 'bout just same time next week?"

* * *

He was arguing with the bartender about the Browns' chances this season when the door flung open and she practically stomped toward him. In a huff she unloaded her purse onto the bar top and then removed her coat and placed it on top of the stool. She sat with a sigh and ordered a dirty martini, waiting until the drink was in front of her and she was able to take a long, satisfying sip before she set the glass back down and looked at him again. His brows were lifted so high from the anticipation that they were damn near the ceiling by the time she finally spoke.

"I just got back from visiting Mr. Schuester at McKinley." She stared at him, finally shaking her head when he made no move to add to the conversation. "There's no glee club!"

He chuckled as he finished his beer, licking his lips before saying, "That's not really news, babe. S'cut like three years ago."

"I ended up hearing about it from your sister; Mr. Schuester didn't even mention it!"

"S'cause it's not news," he repeated, still smiling. "Sylvester cut it for budget reasons after Jake's first year. Schue's too busy with his kid to care."

Puck watched her battle with herself, shaking her head and clearly working through something in her mind all while polishing off the last of her cocktail in record time. They'd been meeting up at the bar for the past couple of weeks now, but tonight was the first he'd beat her there. It was also the first time she hadn't looked bored out of her mind, and considering the topic of conversation, he was more than a little worried.

"Sectionals were pushed back until December after we graduated," she mused, scowling when he started to instantly shake his head. "What? It's not _ideal_, but it's not impossible."

"There's no fuckin' way, Berry." He chuckled around his gulp of his new beer, too amused by how crazy she looked to stop laughing. "Sue will never allow it." At those words, the fire in her eyes only got brighter and he knew there was no stopping her then. "And even if ya _could_, you have to get kids to join."

"We did it once, in a much less welcoming time." She turned in her seat as he got up, her eyes and voice following him. "We could do it again."

There was no point in arguing, because he knew she'd already decided. And even though he thought she was crazy, he kind of found her hopefulness inspiring. After everything she'd been through in the past few years, it was refreshing to hear the passion in her voice. It made him want to believe her, to believe in her - even if he did find Salt &amp; Pepa's _Push It _on the jukebox and tell her she better start practicing for recruitment; he almost choked on his laughter when she threw her purse at him.

* * *

When Puck pulled into his mom's driveway after working at the tire shop all day, the last thing he expected to see was Rachel Berry. Yet, after he pulled into the garage and cut the engine, he saw her through the driver-side mirror standing at the edge of the walk with a steaming mug in her hand. He swung open the door and tumbled out, stretching his back before shutting the car door and then the garage door after him. With only five feet separating them, she lifted her free hand and waved.

"Any chance you drink coffee?" His already hiked eyebrows managed to raise even more, dipping down in the middle to show his confusion. "Your mother and sister said you would be home any minute, so when I informed them I'd wait outside, your mom offered me this even though I tried to explain that I don't particularly care for the beverage - you know, without all the specialized flavoring that's rude to ask for anywhere but a coffee shop."

He chuckled, his eyes diverting to the front window to see if his family was watching; there was no doubt in his mind that they would want more information despite knowing he and Rachel had been hanging out for almost a month now. "Ma likes it strong."

"So I discovered."

He smiled at her scrunched nose, stuffing the car keys into his pocket and taking the warm mug from her grip. Puck didn't usually drink coffee at night (he had enough trouble sleeping in his shitty bed as it was), but he also knew Rachel wouldn't feel comfortable going inside without having it at least appear as if she'd accepted his mother's gift. He took a tentative sip, mostly just to warn his tastebuds of the strong flavor, then a larger gulp followed by another. Looking at the now half-full mug, Rachel smiled gratefully and took it back into her hands.

"So, what's up?" He asked, leading her toward the front door and then inside the house. Both Sarah and his mom looked conveniently casual on the couch, and he couldn't help but shake his head. He loved both of them, but standing between them and Rachel had him wondering when he'd surrounded himself with so much crazy.

"Sue gave the go ahead for restarting the glee club."

He barked out a laugh on his way to the kitchen, bending down to look in the fridge even as he spoke to her. "Ya ever think about using your powers for good instead of evil?"

"This _is_ good, Noah," she reasoned, taking the container of lunch meat he'd just gotten out of the fridge from his hands and putting it right back. She halted any argument by him as she pulled on the bottom of his work shirt and walked toward the microwave, opening it to reveal a glass dish of some pasta thing that he wanted to eat with his bare hands. She re-closed the door and started the appliance for the appropriate time before leaning her hip and hand against the counter and looking at him.

"She agreed to one year, paid completely by me, until I can prove the club is viable. I obviously don't have a lot of expendable income, so I need to speak with the community and start to etch out plans for fundraising performances and such."

"Sounds like a plan," he offered, mostly just watching the plate of food spin in circles as time seemed to drag on and on. "Sounds like it coulda waited a few days, too, but I 'ppreciate the grub."

"I cut up and cooked an innocent, dead chicken for you." She pulled the dish out a second before the microwave would have sounded, stirring and then moving the contents to a plate and then his waiting hands. She presented a fork toward him, but pulled it back at the last second with a pointed look. "Now you need to do something for me."

He rolled his eyes, but grabbed the fork and took a bite. Then, as the delicious flavors mingled inside his mouth and danced down his throat, he found himself nodding. "Anything. _Fuck_. This is good."

"Thank you." She shook her head lightly, her face turning serious once more. "I need you to talk to your brother. Mr. Schuester has agreed to place posters around the school in advertisement, but word of mouth is always stronger, not to mention endorsement from a popular senior." She snapped her fingers in front of his face, forcing his attention back on her as opposed to the pasta he was basically making out with at that point. "The meeting is two days from now, at 3. Any and all that are interested are expected to attend; we don't have time for stragglers."

She left without another word, outside of saying goodbye to his sister and mother. The latter was on his ass immediately, almost making him choke on his food when she asked a million questions that weren't even close to being based on fact. And, after telling her nearly 20 times that they were just friends and she'd finally given up, he was almost to his room when Sarah stopped him.

"What's up, squirt?"

She looked shy for about four seconds, then said, "I wanna help."

He wasn't sure what the hell she was talking about until a boombox manifested and her voice carried the tune bellowing out of it. Turned out, she was the shit.

* * *

He laughed at her when she retrieved yet another piece of sheet music from the garbage, his aim impeccable considering he'd made all three of the songs she'd given him and just made another after she'd handed him some dumb pop choice. He wasn't even sure why he was still there considering the meeting ended almost a half hour ago; he'd only come because he'd wanted to see Rachel's reaction when Sarah auditioned - a term used loosely considering everyone who'd shown up was accepted into the club. The look on her face had been priceless, though, and it hadn't shown even one ounce of jealousy, which he knew was because she'd humbled over the years and not just because his sister wasn't exactly _Rachel Berry good_.

"Noah, grow up!" She unwrinkled the piece of paper, placing it back on top of the folder she'd taken it out of. "If you're going to help, then you need to actually contribute."

"Well, sweet. 'Cause I ain't helpin'."

"Yes you are." She shook her head. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not. That's _why_ I'm not helpin'."

"Noah, there is so much to do. We need to start selecting songs, working on potential setlists. The kids are going to need our complete attention at first, as the learning curve for competitive singing is different for every individual. Then there's choreography, costumes … are you even listening?"

"Yeah, but I'm not sure why since _I'm not helping_."

"Of course you are!"

He shook his head, figuratively putting his foot down. Legit, he wasn't even sure how he was _still_ _there_. Like, in the choir room at McKinley High School with Rachel Berry. He'd joined glee to be closer to Quinn, which was weird now. As was seeing Finn's plaque, which Mr. Schuester had taken from his classroom and put back up where it had hung before in the choir room. Even being actual friends with Rachel was kind of weird, but that was where he drew the line. Friend, good. Co-director, bad.

"We both know I can convince you … one way or another."

Puck couldn't help but show his surprise, caught off guard less by her words and more by the way she'd said them. There was a lightness in her tone, even though the actual timbre of her voice had dropped an octave by the end of her statement. And it wasn't like flirting was necessarily uncommon between them, especially when she was single, but it was also kind of new and kind of fun and, well, kind of hot. Friend, good. Flirty friend, _so good_.

"I think I'd like to try one of the alternatives."

She locked eyes with him, smiling at his waggling brows before saying, "Maybe later. Help first."

The twinkle in her eye confused him. He couldn't tell if she was being playful or promising. But he quickly decided he didn't mind waiting to see. So they spent all night working on the first week's assignment, and afterward she handed him a piece of gum and thanked him for helping. Then she winked and left him to lock up, his eyes glued to the purposeful sway of her hips the whole time.

It wasn't the best way to waste a night, but it also wasn't the worst, either.

* * *

He heard the click of her heels before he even knew it was her, his vision impeded by the nearly two-ton vehicle he was currently underneath fixing. He listened to her greet a few of the other guys in the shop, and hurried up what he was doing when they started to give him shit for having a hot visitor. Her cheeks were bright red by the time he rolled from underneath the car, but he didn't tease her about it. After all, the guys weren't wrong.

"I booked our first public performance this afternoon, opening for the band that is headlining Lima's fall celebration in a couple of weeks. I've made sure to be very clear that we will be performing for free, as a promotional event, so as not to disqualify us in any way like our first year. However, I've already spoken to some students who are willing to help walk around the crowd seeking donations for the club's expenses."

He nodded along, mostly because it sounded like she had it all under control and he wasn't sure what she expected him to say. Luckily Rachel was the kind of woman who'd tell you what she wanted, so he never worried about that being a bad plan. "Cool."

"Yes, well, I wanted you to know so you could attempt to request the day off." Her eyes fell for just a moment, darting a little to her left and right as she spoke a little more quietly. "It's a Saturday, and … I remember Finn used to say those were always very busy."

He nodded absently, knowing she was right but also coming to understand what had her acting so strange. He still remembered what he'd felt like when he'd come back to work for Burt a few months ago; Finn was the one who'd brought him on when they were in high school, and it'd been weird to work there without him under the same car or sitting in the break room. It still was, sometimes, but the guys had helped him move past the uncomfortableness. Maybe he could do the same for Rachel.

"It was so busy one Saturday during our senior year that Burt asked Kurt to help out. He hated every second of it, being covered in grease n' all, and was annoyin' the shit outta me, so I had this awesome idea. I got Finn to get Kurt to back out one of the cars we'd just finished, and just as he passed the edge of the garage, I rolled one of the creepers under the car." Puck started laughing, hard. "Dude fuckin' screamed so loud and _high_! He'd thought he killed someone." Puck was still laughing, but had to catch his breath a little. "Finn legit peed himself a little."

She smiled, too, even though Kurt was her best friend. Still, her voice was distant. "I don't think I've ever heard that story."

"I bet we both have a lot of those," he remarked casually, shrugging one shoulder. "I don't get off for another hour." He cleared his throat, focusing on the towel in his hands that wasn't doing anything but spread the grease around. "Why don't you tell me some of 'em, keep me company?"

Her sad, shy expression broke into one of those brilliant 1,000-watt smiles that he rarely was the cause of, and he grinned when she started with her own story that involved humor at Kurt's expense. An hour later, he punched out and they moved the conversation out by their cars for another 30 minutes before there was finally a quiet lag. For the first time since they'd started reminiscing, her smile faded and her eyes fell to where she was kicking a rock with her shoe.

"Thank you, Noah." She looked up at him shyly. "I'd been nervous to come here; the only memories I have from here are of him." She straightened her gaze, defying her own previous weakness. "I didn't want that to be the reason not to come, though." Then she smiled, still a little bashful but mostly just her normal exuberance showing. "Now I have new memories, with you."

He reciprocated her smile with one of his own, though he knew better than to say anything. After all, what _would_ he say to something like that?

"I'll see you later, at Ray's?"

He bobbed his head. "Just gotta shower first."

She nodded in understanding, then rocked forward and placed a quick but somehow lingering kiss on his cheek. Her smile was shy, as was the meek wave she'd managed before climbing into her car and driving off. It took him about five minutes to do the same.

* * *

He'd almost made it to his truck when one of the new glee kids (technically they were _all_ new, but whatever) stopped him. He was already running late if he was going to make it to the shop on time, but the girl looked straight-up depressed and the fact that she was kind of cute didn't even factor in when he finally agreed to listen. In fact, he led them to an area where other people could see them without necessarily being able to hear them, just so there would be some kind of record that he wasn't doing anything wrong. And if those two things didn't show _major_ character growth, then the fact that the girl left 10 minutes later thanking him for his advice surely did.

He always used to think being Mr. Schue would suck, but he did kind of get a thrill out of helping the glee kids. He knew how much high school sucked, and the kids liked how brutally honest he was about that fact, as well other things. Most of all, for him, was he liked the quiet moments when it wasn't the whole group, when he could help just one of them understand how much more life there was after high school - which sounded really stupid considering he was only about to turn 22 and this was what was reminding him that he had a lot left to live for still, too.

* * *

They both finished their respective shots at the same time, though he slumped back down against the bar once he'd finished whereas she jumped up and started pacing. You wouldn't know it based on her energy level, but they were currently drinking away their sorrows after the glee club bombed its first public appearance. Technically the kids had done fine, outside of a giant case of stage fright for a few of them, but they'd barely earned any money, and it wasn't exactly the confidence booster they all hoped it would be. Yet, while he felt completely beaten down, Rachel only seemed to get more and more optimistic as time passed.

"It's officially a new day, Noah," she said, pointing to the clock as it inched past the midnight hour. "Our wallowing must commence, and we need to discuss what we are going to say to the kids come Monday."

"How 'bout something like, 'Well, this was fun ...'"

"Noah!" She gasped out his name in shock, coming to stand at his side and placing a hand on his shoulder. "This is just a setback. A _minor_ setback." She released him, back to pacing - almost bouncing now she was so amped up. "Think of how many we had during our tenure in glee - and that didn't stop us; we became national champions!"

Puck scoffed. "This group doesn't 'xactly have a Rachel Berry carrying them."

"There's no 'i' in 'glee'." She stomped her foot at his repeated disagreement. "Perhaps at the beginning I was the driving force behind the club's success, but we became a team, Noah. Sometimes even to my chagrin, but it happened. And this group just needs to believe, in themselves and in each other." She moved back to her stool, leaning over it to try to insert herself into his line of vision. "Think of how much we changed in just those three years, how much change we _caused_. Mr. Schuester took a chance on us, on his dreams, and never looked back."

"Until you graduated."

"He divorced and remarried, to a woman who overcame her debilitating disease for love," she continued, undeterred by his interruption. "Kurt not only came out as homosexual, but was accepted as such and even caused an anti-bullying initiative - that was started by a football player and a cheerleader! Courtesy of our group, the social caste system that plagues nearly every modern high school was completely abolished, jocks becoming choir nerds and vice versa." She pushed at him then, forced his chair to swivel enough that she was standing between his legs and looking right into his eyes. "I mean, _you_ were friends with Kurt!"

"No, I wasn't."

She rolled her eyes. "You helped him organize a flash mob to _Barbra Streisand_ at the local mall."

"That don't count," he chuckled, her face too funny not to laugh at. "That was for you, not him." He watched her smile fade instantly, and he held his breath waiting for her response to his confession. But, like the good actress she was, she recovered quickly - with a stage smile and another point she hoped to add to her column.

"You worked independently more than once to save the glee club, Am-badass-ador."

His pride be damned, he couldn't help the look her gave her at that. He'd admit that over time the glee club became something he cared about; his true friends were there and it was the first and only place that had given him hope - for his future, but for other things, too. But if she honestly thought he had any motive for saving the glee club outside of knowing it mattered to her, then she was not only crazy but also really, really dumb. And the fact that he could almost see the rest of her examples - the Glist, intimidating Vocal Adrenaline/Jesse, etc. - start to die off in her eyes while her mouth just sort of hung open led to the impression that she was starting to realize it, too.

"You gave a woman another chance to be a mother by giving up your rights as a father." His back straightened immediately, bringing his eyeline slightly above hers but not far enough away that the softness and intensity in hers could be ignored. "You left LA to be closer to Jake, to give him the support you never had when you were younger."

Both their eyes fell then, and it was good because the next thing she said damn near killed him. "You joined the Air Force to honor your dead best friend."

After at least a full minute with his head down and eyes closed, just fighting the emotions building inside of him, he looked up. She was looking right back at him, with tears in her eyes that he knew were mirrored in his own. Yet, despite the sadness that was no doubt clouding both their minds, the warmth of her hand on his jean-covered thigh made the pain a little more bearable. As did the softness he saw in her melted chocolate gaze … right before she kissed him.

* * *

Throwing his truck into park and sprinting toward the front doors of McKinley, Puck wondered when his life started to be so much like high school, take two. Legit, it was a stupid comparison considering he was _the man_ in high school, but Puck couldn't help the nerves coursing through him when he walked into the school that afternoon. He hadn't seen or even heard from Rachel since that night at the bar, approximately 40 hours ago, and the anticipation was kind of killing him. It was the do or die moment, when he learned what that kiss was - which he hadn't immediately after because he'd still been in shock when it'd ended and then she'd challenged him to a game of darts before they both left.

And even though it did feel like sophomore/junior year all over again, it was also different. Like, she wasn't obsessed with Finn this time and he wasn't just humoring her or hoping just to bang her (that one only worked with 'just' as a qualifier because he definitely _did_ want to have sex with her; he had wanted to since he was 11 and figured out what it was, and it was something that never went away when it came to her). Now it wasn't just about her body (always hot) or knowing she was insanely flexible or whatever. It was a lot more than that, which meant it was a lot less his territory, as evident by his crash-and-burn relationship with Quinn.

So, because he'd already swung and struck out by trying to be a new man, Puck reverted to his old-school self the second he walked into the choir room. Rachel smiled at him like normal, and started the big motivational speech she'd alluded to that night. And even though he thought he was doing a pretty good job at staying in his patent position between ambivalent and apathetic, he felt his entire body tense when she suggested they sing a duet in an effort to motivate the young group. In fact, it wasn't until Jake slapped him on the back did he actually make a move to join Rachel at the front of the room, and the shy smile she greeted him with before having the band start Lady Antebellum's _Need You Now_ nearly froze him. But, just like in high school, he followed her lead and they managed to complete the entire performance even more flawlessly than the first time. The only difference was after they'd finished and the kids were talking amongst themselves while Rachel went to copy some sheet music, he sacked up and asked her out on a real date. And she accepted.

He was still the man.

* * *

Breadstix was a lame choice, but it was midweek in November and Lima had limited indoor choices for adults. Unfortunately, the same excuse was used by almost all their friends, too, who were home visiting for Thanksgiving break. It wasn't liked he minded catching up with Artie or whatever, but everyone sort of ambushed the evening, and Rachel was either too nice or too embarrassed to tell them they were on a date. And since the latter might physically hurt him, he didn't say anything either. But then she was mentioning an early morning meeting as way of declining an invitation to meet up for a pseudo-reunion, and he started to feel that weird ache that he figured was probably inevitable.

"I'll take ya back home whenever," he mentioned, looking up to find their waiter. "I didn't know you had plans tomorrow, or I wouldn'ta picked …"

"I don't have plans." Her confession was firm, but he took even more comfort in her guilty expression than the obvious lie she'd told their friends. "I like you, Noah." She sounded surprised, but frankly so was he. "More than I did when we were younger, but in a lot of the same ways that it is quite scary."

Puck nodded, because he actually understood what she meant. They'd gone around in circles a few times, in a lot of different ways, and he clearly still wasn't sure if they were just chasing their tails again or not.

"I'm glad we're as close as we are now, and I've always taken some pride in thinking that I know you so well, maybe better than others." She ducked her head shyly, barely whispering now. "It's still hard to read you sometimes, though. Especially when it comes to women."

He felt like an asshole, even if he knew she wasn't judging him. It was like she'd said: they knew each other better than most. Certainly better than others would think. Maybe it was a Jew thing, but they'd always had a connection between them, one where they seemed to get each other even if they didn't particularly like one another. The second part went away, which was probably how they'd ended up here in the first place. Rachel was one of the only people who'd never really placed him in any particular box, and it was one of the main reasons he'd never felt trapped by her.

"Are you, perhaps, worried the discovery that you made in regards to you and Quinn would apply to us as well?" He shook his head, though the thought was racing through his mind _now_; he'd thought about being with Rachel on and off for the past five years, which was a lot of expectation/hype without much foundation. "Then _what_?"

He heard the desperation in her voice, and finally realized she'd been basically baring her soul to him with little-to-no response. He blew out a heavy breath, took a sip of his soda just to busy himself for a moment, then looked at her. He wasn't sure how she made it so her eyes seemed so big, but it always made it seem like he could be himself with her because she was seeing him more clearly than others.

"Sometimes s'hard to remember I'm allowed to like ya." While her confession had been winded, Puck never was one to beat around the bush. And even though his instincts were to hold back, to pass her the ball and see what she did with it, he barrelled through his own discomfort for her sake. "You were Finn's girl for so long … and part of me is glad you're not, but the other part kinda wishes you were because then he'd still be here."

The air between them was thick, and the silence dragged on for what felt like eternity. In reality it wasn't _too_ long, but long enough for the waiter to come check on them and definitely long enough for Puck to assume this would rank as one of the worst dates in history.

"I still miss him," she finally whispered, her eyes focused on a stream of condensation that had built up on her water glass during the night. "And I will always love him, but now it's more because of how he'd loved me, the way he'd taught me to love back - others and myself, too."

She lifted her head then, startling him with how strong her gaze was. "But it's been more than two years since he passed, and … and we weren't even together for the year before then." She licked her lips, blowing out a steadying breath. "And, more and more, I wonder if we wouldn't have just ended up much like you and Quinn - as something that was good when it was, but then wasn't anymore."

Puck listened to her words, but his mind was a million miles away. He couldn't stop thinking about all the what ifs, some of them the same ones he'd been playing for the past two years. Finn was his best friend and he'd been witness to the Finchel show every time it aired, but he'd learned from personal experience that people change. None of them were the same kids they were at the beginning of high school - and people like him and Berry had changed more in the last year than anyone - so it was hard to outright refute her claim that maybe things wouldn't have ended up like everyone had expected. Certainly no one could have expected this.

"But," she cleared her throat, her eyes dropping again as she sat up a little straighter, literally putting distance between them across the table. "I can understand your hardship, and the last thing I want to do is jeopardize our friendship, so let's just …"

"Hey," he interrupted, leaning forward and against the table to stop himself from shaking. He wasn't sure why he was so nervous considering everything she'd just said, but it still felt like a big deal. Like the moment he'd look back on and realize he was finally moving on, from everything that had been holding him back. "You wanna go get some coffee?"


	2. Part 2 of 3

Author's Note: So my plan to motivate myself back into writing seems to have worked, as I finally made it past the blank piece of paper and started working on this again. And, in doing so, I noticed that it was a lot longer than I'd thought before. So I changed the summary to indicate this would be a 3-parter, though it's all really just 1 big story of snapshots of "the final season (in my eyes)" from Puck's POV. My goal for the last part is still Xmas, but happy December to all of those reading (which, by the way, thank you SO MUCH for all those who are reading and reviewing. You guys are awesome).

Enjoy!

* * *

He winced when Rachel stopped the band once more, stomping her foot once and beginning to yet again explain the steps to the pair who just couldn't seem to land the moves at the right time. They bowed their heads in shame, though he thought maybe it was more a defense mechanism to avoid Rachel seeing either of them roll their eyes. The glee club had started working right after school and it was now nearing the seven o'clock hour, and they'd all heard their director berate each member at least once about something. Even without the constant reminders, everyone knew Sectionals was right around the corner; however, only Puck was willing to admit that Rachel had finally crossed the line between dedicated and insane.

"I think we're good for tonight. Get outta here, guys."

The kids scrambled out of the room, one of the football guys actually ducking just to avoid the laser stare on Rachel's face as she faced Puck. He held her gaze, though, waiting for her to hopefully explain the real reason she'd gone off the deep end. After all, considering the club's progress despite their late start plus who they know they're going to compete against for Sectionals, there was no reason to be so hard on the kids. Unfortunately that probably meant _he'd_ done something wrong, but Puck would rather just know than be forced to figure it out - that was Quinn's game, not Rachel's.

"Sectionals is less than a week away, Noah."

"It's been like 3 hours."

"There's no timeline on greatness!"

He rolled his eyes, not afraid for her to see like the kids were. "Ain't nobody gonna be great if they all die from not eating or some shit."

"Just admit that you aren't taking this as seriously as I am." She secured her hands to her hips, looking at him pointedly. "If you don't want to be here, then you can go." Then she turned, gathering the sheet music with her back to him even as she continued talking. "I don't need you here, constantly reminding me how repulsed you are by everything about me - including my dedication to these kids! - so just go if you want to go."

"W-what?" He asked, genuinely confused (though he was still working through half of what she'd just said).

"Why don't you want me?" She turned on her heel, the tears in her eyes catching him more off guard than her words. "We've had two perfectly nice dates and three other separate occasions with time spent together outside of the professional realm, but … nothing - well, the kissing is lovely, but who are we kidding? And I understand the holidays posed a bit of an obstacle, but I …"

"You think I don't _want_ you?" He actually laughed, which didn't exactly help the situation. "Legit, Berry. Have you seen you?" He shook his head comically. "'Puckermans don't date ugly chicks."

"Then _what_?" She asked, so much like she'd done the night of their first date that he knew she felt just as desperate as she had then and knowing it was all his fault again. So much for handling things in-house. "What did I do?"

"Nothing," he groaned, blowing out a heavy breath; he really hated talking about this stuff, mostly because he always came out sounding really stupid. "I just, I dunno what I'm supposed to do. Like, the thing with Quinn was an epic fail and you've been engaged for fuck's sake and … I wanna do this right but I don't know _how_."

Most women would have swooned at the confession, especially coming from a guy like him who didn't often express his emotions. But Rachel Berry wasn't like most women.

"This isn't some stupid game or puzzle, Noah. I don't want you to _try _to make this right. Us being together doesn't make any sense, but I like that. I like _you_, not whatever version of yourself that you think I want or need or that is quote-unquote right." She huffed a little, her voice raising a bit when she added one final thought, "And I don't want you to pretend to be something you're not, otherwise you'd be no better than how Quinn was behaving with Biff."

"Don't fuckin' compare me to Q."

His harsh growl echoed in the small space, their silence deafening as the two just stared at one another. Slowly, the anger seemed to fade from her eyes, and she spoke much more softly afterward. "I consciously try not to compare myself to Quinn or our relationship to such, and I hope eventually it will just be something that doesn't even cross my mind." She cleared her throat, looking at him expectantly. "However, I need you to make the same effort, Noah. Because we can't have a real relationship if we keep living in the past."

He'd told Quinn last year to hold onto her past because you couldn't just ignore part of who you were, but he knew Rachel was right, too. Like, it _was_ important to remember your roots and who you are, but you can't let that stop who you can become.

"Do you find me attractive, Noah?"

His head snapped up, his eyes wide and scattered as he tried to figure out how she sounded so shy yet utterly bold at the same time. "Of course."

"Do you think about me," she paused, her sauntering steps filling in the quiet until she was right in front of him, "sexually?"

"Yes," he gulped, his voice as shaky as his hands that had moved to rest on her hips. He was so turned on so quickly and still nervous about being that free around her (which was beyond stupid since he never _used_ to care about being completely blunt with her and they were actually dating now), but touching her had always had a weird way of calming him - it grounded him, gave him focus (even though it was mostly just tunnel vision on her).

"I'm not a shy 16-year-old girl anymore." She blushed even as she spoke confidently. "I'm not fragile, and you're not going to scare me off with a lewd remark or sexual innuendo." She pressed against him, aligning their bodies so dangerously that both their breaths hitched, hers ending with a plea, "Say something."

His grip tightened as he fought his instincts to pull away, to keep hiding that part of him that he hadn't been able to show her for nearly five years. He cleared his throat, refusing to look away from her chaotic gaze, and said the first thing that came to his mind.

"So, this guy and a girl are making out at the movies when suddenly the dude's toupee falls off. He takes his hand off the chick to search for it, and his hand ends up between her legs. She digs it and is all, 'Yes. That's it!' but the guy just shakes his head and tells her, 'No, it can't be. I part mine on the side.'"

Slowly, her raised eyebrows sunk back down to their normal position, her expression giving away to light amusement until finally a melodic giggle escaped into the room and he could breathe again. Her head slumped to his shoulder even as she shook it lightly, and he switched his hold so his one arm wrapped completely around her waist while the other drifted down, lingering on the smooth expanse of her exposed thigh. The rush of breath he felt on his neck propelled him past the relief he got from opening up to her (even if it was just a stupid joke) and gave him the confidence to continue, stopping his hand's journey right where her thigh and ass met and pulling her flush against him - knowing for certain there now was absolutely _no_ doubt whether he wanted her or not.

"Ya know, I always had a fantasy of fuckin' you in the auditorium."

* * *

They won sectionals - almost too easily - and went out for dinner afterward to celebrate. It was weird because he was one of the adults versus the kids, and then it got weirder after Emma ran to the restroom and Schue had to take a phone call and Puck ended up with their kid in his lap. Outside of babysitting his sister when he got older and the brief time frame Shelby was in town with Beth, he didn't have much interaction with kids. Still, it was clear even as babies that boys were a lot different than girls, which Daniel was making obvious by continually jabbing Puck in the arm with a spoon. Rachel laughed at him and scooped up the toddler in her arms, humming softly to soothe the fussy tyke but unexpectedly relaxing Puck.

"What?"

"Nothin'," he lied, knowing better than to say anything since just thinking it was completely insane. Still, he couldn't help but joke. "Ya just gotta swear not to tell Ma about this or I won't stop hearing about Jewish grandbabies."

If her humming hadn't already put him at ease, then the soft smile that crossed her face paired with the quiet twinkle in her eyes when she didn't totally dismiss the idea that they would be awesome parents certainly would have done the trick.

* * *

There was a whole plan. Rachel had invited everyone to her house while her dads were still away on business, offering to throw a rough dinner party for their old friends while everyone was in town for Christmas. During dinner, she was going to casually mention that her and Puck had started seeing each other, then they'd move on to other topics of conversation. And, honestly, Puck knew it wouldn't go down that easy, but he'd been supportive - mostly because he knew she'd already told Kurt and so he figured the whole thing wasn't a secret anymore anyway; that guy had the biggest mouth of anyone he knew (other than Sam, but that wasn't the same thing).

Regardless, even though he didn't expect the plan to go well, he hadn't anticipated it not going at all.

"What the _actual_ fuck?"

It was the first reaction they'd heard together, though it was hard for him to hear anything but the blood rushing past his ears. Rachel was currently sitting on the counter, her tiny dress and apron bunched up as far as he could get it from his position between her legs. His lips had been firmly suctioned to her neck, his hands denting the smooth taut skin where her legs became her torso. Her hands, conversely, had been running across the freshly cut hair at the back of his head, and her lips were hovering right by his ear, breathy noises of approval lost when Santana had barged through the door/moment. According to the clock on the oven, their friends were more than 30 minutes early; Puck was about 10 minutes past caring.

"Dude, Puck. What's with your hair?"

"Oh!" Rachel squealed, moving him closer (so not helping) and immediately batting at his head and blowing on his neck (_really_ not helping) as if that were really the focus at that moment to anyone but Sam. "I assure you Noah isn't going gray at such a young age; it's just flour. I'm preparing some traditional Jewish pastries for our Hanukkah celebration tomorrow at the synagogue!"

"Yeah. _That's_ why it's so hot in here," Santana joked, slapping Puck's butt on her way through the kitchen. His eyes lifted to Rachel when she attempted to push him away, and he tightened his hold on her to hopefully explain that they couldn't move just yet - her reddening cheeks said she understood. Unfortunately, the flush only made her look even hotter.

"I suppose I don't need any more confirmation than _this_ to assume you really are never coming back to the loft." Kurt sighed, looking over his shoulder at Blaine. "Still willing to help me find a roommate? Or, you know, _six_?"

"Dude, the city is so expensive!"

"There are higher costs than money, Sam," Artie chimed in, gesturing to his crotch. "Much, _much_ higher."

"No one wants to hear about your genital warts, Wheels." Santana kicked Artie's chair with her foot, sending the aspiring filmmaker toward the living room even as he participated in a conversation with the rest of the visiting boys about possibly moving in together. "We're here to talk about them boning."

Rachel gaped, then sputtered, "No we are not!"

"Please."

"I think she means we ain't gonna talk about it, not that it's not happenin'," Puck clarified, grinning at his old friend once he and Rachel finally moved away from the counter to follow the rest of their friends.

"Kurt, you promised!"

Kurt shook his head at the pouting Latina, taking a seat next to Blaine on the couch. "Why do you think we arrived early? I gave you a free show!"

"Kurt!" Rachel bellowed, the flush returning to her cheeks. It didn't look nearly as hot when her anger shifted back to Puck after he'd made a joke about giving it to her eight nights in a row. "Noah!"

"For Hanukkah, babe!" He defended weakly, accepting a high five from Santana, much to Rachel's chagrin (which she reminded him of more than once during the course of the evening). Sometimes it was weird to think about how much could change while almost everything could be exactly like it had been before.

* * *

So far, the new year was treating him well. For one, he'd turned 22, surrounded by a few friends and family. Then, a week later, he'd moved out of his childhood home (for the _last_ time) into an apartment across town. His Ma had thrown a huge fit, even more than she had the first time - maybe because she knew this one would stick. He'd promised he'd still see her a temple and he still helped her around the house, though he was going to revoke that privilege soon if she kept up with her new game of pretending something was wrong for it to turn out to be nothing; he refused to go over at nine at night again only to find out the alleged burst pipe turned out to be from a cup of water that Sarah knocked over ('But I made you a snack!').

"That didn't happen," Jake laughed, jiggling his video controller as if that would help his character from the game move faster.

"So did. Twice." Puck shook his head, laughing a little himself. Shit wouldn't be funny again, but he could find the humor in it now. Maybe only because he was happily lounging in his apartment. Jake was over celebrating the move, hanging out for the night (he refused to say 'sleepover' despite Rachel's constant usage when she'd urged him to spend time with his brother). It was sort of weird that guy's night consisted of him and his 18-year-old brother, but Puck had never lived his life the way people expected. No reason to start now.

"Is Rachel comin' over later?"

"Nah." He groaned when his guy got stuck behind a building, nearly losing his head when a bullet screamed across the screen. Rachel hated the game because it was so violent, so it was probably good she'd already planned to spend the night at her fathers' after some quality family time. Still, considering how much she'd helped setting his new place up and how often she'd been around since the move, it would be kind of weird to go to bed tonight without her.

"You guys are cool though, yeah?"

"Yep."

"She's nice." Jake shrugged, moving his guy around the arena but not really doing anything. "Kinda crazy, but mostly funny. Hot, too."

"Thanks?" Puck eventually pried his eyes off the game, quirking an eyebrow at his little brother when the latter stopped controlling his character completely. "Ya alright?"

Jake was quiet for a long moment, his eyes never leaving the television even though his response was most definitely directed to his right. "I think I made a mistake, with Marley. Like, I mean, obviously I did. But, I'm talkin' on like, a grand scale. Like … the one that got away kinda shit." He sighed heavily, eventually turning to face his older brother. "I dunno what to do."

"You're still young. No worries." Puck shook his head, not wanting to say something cliche about how many more fish there was in the sea, but it seemed like a valid point. After all, he wasn't sure people could know who was right for them until they'd experienced people who were really, really wrong for them first. He hadn't had too many real relationships in his life, but even his one-night stands and flings had taught him something about himself that sure as shit helped him along the way - like the first time with Q: pull out.

"But you and Rach dated in high school, too."

Puck groaned a little, eventually throwing down his controller to the coffee table and trying to figure out how he was going to explain something to his brother that he barely understood in the first place. He wouldn't even know how to put into words everything that had come together to get to where he was now, maybe because there weren't words. Or maybe because he was a man of few words, and he needed _a lot to _even come close to properly dissecting his and Berry's relationship. Ones that made it clear that they _never_ would have worked in high school, and not just because of Finn but because their personalities only really meshed now that he's old enough to care about hurting her feelings and she _had_ feelings for more than just herself. Ones that explained that neither had the other on any type of pedestal, or that they'd been through enough - together, as friends or more, and separately - that they appreciated the other across several layers. Ones that alluded to the amazing, mind-blowing sex without being detailed or graphic or even remotely telling because that was for him to know and no one else.

"Look, I'm … I dunno. Flattered, I guess. But, we ain't the same person, Jake." He shrugged, knowing the teen understood the parallels that had been drawn between Rachel and Marley and how Jake might find he's better suited for someone like Quinn even though Puck most certainly wasn't. "Ya might find out you like a different flavor, is all."

Puck picked his controller back up and unpaused the game, and both went back to looking at the television, but Jake shook his head while starting to move his character. "I don't think so. I like Rachel."

Still with the controller in his hand - and kicking some major ass, if he didn't say so himself - Puck shoved Jake's shoulder as hard as he could with his own. "Get your own, bro."

* * *

Puck swore he could hear the sound of the street light outside humming as he layed in bed, wide awake at nearly two in the morning. He should be exhausted considering he'd had a full day between work and then glee and then some serious extra-curricular activity with Rachel a few hours ago, but his brain would not shut off. He wasn't even sure _why_ he was thinking about the stuff Jake had been talking about last weekend, but all of a sudden it was the only thing in his head. And it was impossible to fall asleep with those kind of thoughts rattling inside, mostly because they all centered around the woman who was currently taking up the other half of his bed - figuratively speaking, of course; she barely took up a fifth of it given her size.

"Noah," she giggled lightly, nuzzling into his side a little more. "You're tickling me."

"Sorry," he whispered gruffly, his fingers halting any further stroking (which wasn't easy considering he had no idea he had been doing it in the first place). "Go back to sleep."

She nodded against his chest and he felt her eyelashes sweep across his side, but then only a minute later he felt them flutter open again followed by her head lifting so her chin could rest on his chest. "Why aren't _you_ sleeping, too?"

He sighed heavily, not really having an answer for her. There really wasn't any reason why he couldn't stop thinking about Jake's questions or some of the things Rachel had said in regards to not letting the ghosts of their pasts haunt them, or why they both came together to somehow play Quinn's words from last year in his mind over and over. It shouldn't matter that Quinn had said Rachel was Finn's soulmate. After all, when Puck had asked her who she thought was her soulmate, she'd never answered; and just because he'd been stupid enough to think that had been her way of saying it was him didn't mean she was right - about either of them.

"Do you think Finn was your soulmate?"

He refused to look at her, still just staring at the ceiling, but he felt her body tense the second the words left his mouth. "That's why you're not sleeping?"

Her surprise was valid, but the delaying tactic still pissed him off (maybe just because he was tired). "It's a simple question, Berry."

She sat up then, taking the sheet with her as she did so and making sure her anger was evident in her tone. "Do you think I'm _your _soulmate?" He watched a flash of insecurity course through her eyes through the moonlight before the steely expression remained fixed. "Come on, _Puck_. It's a simple question."

"Forget it," he mumbled, turning his head on the pillow so his eyes would face the opposite wall. "Let's just go to bed."

"Fine," she huffed, scooting across the mattress until she was basically falling off the edge furthest from him.

Despite the distance, the more time that passed the more he could feel her anger start to give away to the pain. She always did this weird breathing thing to attempt to calm herself, but he could hear her struggling to hold back her tears, and he knew the only thing that would help her was him. That is, him admitting what an emotional retard he was and praying she'd forgive him for being such an ass. Slowly, he turned from his position and moved across the bed, enveloping her entire frame within his. She seemed so tiny, and he knew then and there he'd do anything to protect her - though that'd been true for a lot longer than just since they'd started dating.

"I love you." She hiccuped at his rough words, turning frantically in his arms and wrapping hers around him. "Sorry I didn't just say that, and sorry …"

"Stop." She shook her head, taking a deep breath against his chest before lifting her watery eyes to meet his. "I don't believe in soulmates." She pulled back into him then, her head pressed tightly against his chest while her mouth seemingly spoke right to his heart. "I think relationships take work, and it isn't a matter of fate whether two people are right for each other or not. Finn was my person, for that period in my life, but I also don't think we're limited to just one. I think everyone has the potential to touch your life in a significant way, but it is a matter of whether you let them or not." She pulled back again, looking into his eyes but seeing much deeper than that. "I believe in love over destiny, and … I believe in us. In _this_."

His soft chuckle at just how Rachel Berry that whole thing sounded was cut short by the feeling of her soft lips pressing against his. And when they finally parted and she whispered her returned affection to him, he didn't much care anymore about not getting enough sleep that night. No matter what, tomorrow was going to be an awesome day.

* * *

He'd always thought Valentine's Day was for suckers, and he all but proved it after coming up with a totally awesome idea for the glee kids do do singing valentine's for the school at $10 a pop. High schoolers were dumb enough to pay for that kind of shit, even though they probably wouldn't be with the same significant others come St. Patrick's Day. But, nonetheless, the group made a killing - definitely enough for gas to regionals in Cincinnati next month - and he even threw an extra $20 into the pot; he'd told the kids to sing _Sweet Caroline_ to Rachel before the day was through since he had to work all day. They must have done a good job, too, because she was waiting for him naked when he got home.

So good! So good! So good!

* * *

They decided to go to New York during McKinley's spring break. Rachel hadn't been back since leaving almost a year and a half ago, and he knew she missed the city - not to mention her friends that were there. They'd both been thinking more and more about the future, and the trip was the perfect thing to help her sort through everything without any pressure. Still, considering everyone only had another year left before graduating, the trip was a constant reminder that Rachel would have been in her last semester if she'd never dropped out of NYADA. And, to further complicate things, Quinn had decided to show up unannounced when she'd heard Santana and Brittany were taking the train up from Boston.

"Where's Rachel?" Quinn asked casually, walking into the living room after returning with Santana and Brittany from shopping.

"Kurt took her to NYADA for lunch and then they're going to visit with some of her old professors," Blaine answered, accepting the bowl of popcorn Sam moved into his lap.

"Why didn't you go?"

"Why would I?" Puck asked, his eyes never leaving the television screen; he was interested in the coverage for the NCAA tournament, but he mostly just didn't want to acknowledge Quinn.

"I just would have assumed she would want you with her." She shrugged emptily, moving to sit on the arm of the couch. "Are you sure she was okay with you not going?"

He scoffed. "She's gone, ain't she?"

Quinn made a noise that made Puck's blood boil, and it took everything in him not to remind the blonde that not everyone was as uptight as she was. He'd done a stellar job over the past day of keeping his comments to himself, but the more she pushed, the less he cared about opening Pandora's Box. After all, she clearly wasn't as willing to play nice.

"Is Brody one of the professors they are planning to visit, Blaine?"

"Why are you even here, Q?" Puck gritted out, interrupting Blaine's meek reply that Brody had graduated and moved to Miami.

"Calm down," she replied innocently, making a face at Sam that was meant to seem like the blond was on her side. "I'm not saying anything is happening … even if her options are pretty much endless here. Not like Lima."

Puck shook his head, lifting from the couch and moving to the kitchen just to put some distance between him and Quinn. He heard Blaine's sigh of relief at his exit, as if the tension followed him - just like the former Cheerio.

"Look, I know we didn't end on great terms, but I'm honestly just looking out for you. She's …"

"Don't fuckin' talk about her like you know her." He slammed closed the fridge door he'd just opened, his eyes in slits as he stared at her from across the kitchen. "You don't know shit about her _or_ about me."

Her innocent stance flew out the window, her arms crossing tightly over her chest as she spoke to him. "I know you must be stupid if you think this thing between you two actually has a future."

"I _am_ stupid!" He shouted, throwing the bottle of water that had been clenched in his hand against the brick wall to his left, too upset to soak in the way it made her flinch. "I'm stupid for ever thinkin' you were more than the stuck up bitch you'd been in high school. I'm stupid for not seein' how manipulative and selfish and conniving you've always been." His breath was coming out in pants, but now that the floodgates had opened, he couldn't hold back. "I'm stupid for leaving the Air Force just 'cause you said it was the only way for us to have a real shot, and I'm _really_ stupid for stickin' around for three months after while you bit my fuckin' head off every damn day about not being able to find a job."

By now the fight had earned not just Sam and Blaine's attention, but Santana and Brittany manifested from wherever they'd been hiding, watching the scene in the kitchen like it were the next great reality show.

"But you're stupid, too. You're stupid if you think you would have been a good mother to Beth. You're stupid if you think you're better than anyone, in basically any aspect but legit in the sack. And you're really, _really _stupid if you think Rachel is a rebound or a Band-Aid or whatever 'cause she's not." The rage had left, and it was like he only had the energy to explain one final part. "She's _it _for me."

"Noah?"

He turned at the sound of her voice, feeling even lighter than before. Honestly, even though it had been harsh, it'd felt good to get all of that off his chest. He and Quinn had done a lot of fighting leading up to their breakup, but it had all been superficial shit. He'd never gotten the kind of closure that he'd just received, and it was freeing to have it all out in the open. But nothing compared to the relief he felt when he saw Rachel standing at the front door, her eyes wide as she looked between him and Quinn while Kurt attempted to have some sort of silent conversation with Blaine from the other side of the room. Even at the very end, Quinn was Puck's ultimate chase. He'd felt so much adrenaline coursing through him when she'd ran into his arms at McKinley and asked him to stay. But where his relationship with Quinn was like a race, Rachel was the finish line; once the race was over and he was exhausted, she was the air he needed back in his lungs to keep going.

In four strong strides, Puck leafed his fingers through Rachel's hair until his hand cradled the back of her head and bent down to crash his lips against hers. She squeaked into the embrace, her one hand lifting to his shirt and bunching the fabric while the rest of her surrendered to the passion pouring out of him. When they finally parted, she breathlessly whispered, "What was that for?"

"Nothin'," he admitted quietly, kissing her forehead softly before mumbling against the skin, "Everything."

She smiled at him gratefully, but then _really_ smiled at Quinn. And the look in her eyes was so hilarious that he didn't even mind bursting out in laughter because he knew she'd be there to help him breathe again after.

* * *

Regionals sucked. They won, but it was a war, one with more than one battle. First, Marley got sick right before they were set to leave, and lost her voice completely by the day of competition. They had to rework everything, which was something the new kids weren't used to like their class was; he and Rachel almost found time to reminisce about the chaos, too, until some douche in one of the other groups got a little handsy with the girl who couldn't voice her need for help, earning him a multitude of facial injuries delivered by none other than Jacob Puckerman. And Puck was mostly proud of his little brother for sticking up for his (non) girl, but it also cost New Directions their second lead and only a day left until they were due on stage.

While Rachel wanted to cut the solos and increase the group numbers to make up for the lack of leading talent, Puck asked her to trust him - and in a shy sophomore that he was pretty sure Rachel hadn't thought twice about. The latter probably never would have happened if she hadn't eavesdropped on his conversation with the young girl, where he'd told her that he'd always been second (or last) in glee back in the day, and he'd wished he would have fought harder to show that he could have done it. He'd told her that she'd have plenty of regrets from high school, but none of them should be about something she loved. And, finally, he'd reminded her that being a part of something special _made_ you special.

They'd ended up pairing the young girl with Ryder, but Rachel assured Puck that she was lucky to have him as her male lead.

* * *

Puck wiped at his brow as he felt a bead of sweat move closer to his eye, his gaze shifting to his watch for a moment to ensure he had plenty of time before glee would start. There were still kids on the track and in the practice field participating in gym class, so he knew school hadn't ended yet. However, he also saw a couple of football players working out together as well as Coach Bieste waving him over from the sidelines - he almost thought about busting her chops about her having legs, too, but he knew from experience that she was basically rooted to that spot because it was the only place she could see the field as well as inside the weight room.

"What's up, Coach?"

"Didn't we agree that you should be calling me 'Shannon' now that you're basically working here?"

"Yes, but then we both agreed it was totally weird." Puck laughed, ending a stretch before standing back upright. "So, _what's up, Coach_?"

"I just got word that I've been approved to extend my staff - nothing like _another_ championship to get the big wigs off their wallets - and I wanted to know if you'd be interested."

"Me?"

"The kids love you, Puck. They trust you, and we all know you know what you're doing. I think it would be a great fit." After what she must have considered too much silence, she continued. "You've shown a lot of maturity over the last year or two. Leadership skills that I think we both know you used to hide. So, if you're staying in town, I'd like you to think it over; nothing will really start until the summer, so you have a couple months to decide, but I think it would be really good for you - and the pay isn't terrible."

Puck chuckled, though it sounded off even to him and it was mostly out of nervousness than actual amusement. "Legit, I'm … I dunno. Honored. But," he shook his head, so many thoughts swirling around in his head, "things are already kinda crazy. Between work and glee and, like, life I'm barely gettin' by. And that wouldn't be fair to the team, to you." He shrugged then, his voice even lower as he voiced things he hadn't really done so far (it didn't surprise him that Coach Bieste was the first to hear it; they'd always had a connection, even when he was a pain in the ass kid). "Plus, the whole future thing is a pretty big question mark right now. M'not sure what's gonna happen."

"Well, the offer stands," she reminded easily, her expression veering too far into serious to be mistaken for disappointed. "But, word of advice: Don't wait around for your future to happen."

He nodded, grateful not just for the advice but for the presentation - he'd heard Ms. Pillsbury-Schuester tell a senior something similar earlier in the week, only she'd used one of her ridiculous pamphlets that read _Turn That Question Mark Into An Exclamation Point!_

* * *

He yelled at the television to motivate the players on the screen, ignoring the other bar patrons' complaints about his belligerent behavior to instead guard his glass; the bartender had already announced that he was cut off after his last rant, and Puck wouldn't put it past the fat bastard to swipe his drink in an effort to get his drunk ass out of his bar quicker. But he wasn't ready to go back to his apartment yet. It felt empty, hollow even, without her, and it only served to remind him of how stupid he'd been. And even though Ray's was kind of their spot, it was better than being trapped in a place where he could still smell her on his pillow or was reminded of her absence just by opening the fridge and seeing her special vegan food.

It wasn't like this was their first first. They fought all the time, but usually it's about little shit and it's over within the hour, or at least a day. It had been a whole week since he'd last heard from her, and the bulk of that time he'd spent in a drunken stupor. He hadn't drank himself into oblivion like this since Finn's death, and it would be dramatic to put this fight on anywhere near the same scale, but more and more he worried that this fight would be their last, and the circumstances of _that_ certainly felt close to a similar kind of death.

The kicker was it had been all his fault. Like, legit. Not in hindsight and not because he wanted the fight to end. She'd honestly done nothing wrong and he'd still managed to fuck everything up. In his defense, he'd been working overtime at the shop after one of the guys had a heart attack - the one they'd nicknamed Bacon, poetically enough - and he was still helping with glee since it felt like just as much as his group as it was Rachel's (even though he was only meant to help out from time to time). He'd been beyond exhausted and he'd dealt with a couple of assholes at the garage that day, but instead of being grateful that his girl was cool with ordering in and just chilling in front of the television - even reassuring him that everything was fine and she wanted to know how she could help - he'd yelled at her. Call it a left hook to the hot button, but he always got pissed when people placated him; he hated feeling like a failure or a disappointment, but he hated people being fine with it even more. Like they knew it would happen, like it was expected for him to mess up somewhere down the line.

So after letting his frustration fester for the entire work week, she'd innocently offered her understanding that he'd just wanted to spend his day off at the apartment sleeping while she opted to go out with her fathers, and he'd yelled at her for it. He'd told her that if she didn't mind the space, then she should just leave him the hell alone. Yeah. That happened. And now he'd had a whole week of plenty of space. No texts, no calls, no visits.

_Nothing_ was fine.

His neck practically snapped when he turned to see who'd caused the bell on the front door to jingle, his disappointment trumping his surprise to see Santana walking through the bar. Her heels clicked on the floor as she approached, her hand lifting directly in some guy's face on her way after he'd turned in his stool and opened his mouth to likely try some line on her. She didn't hesitate in her objective, though, reaching him in the next few seconds and just staring. Then, when he finally got sick of her giving him the silent treatment, he opened his mouth to say something Puck-ish. Unfortunately, she'd just been bading him, using that moment to grab his glass and toss the remainder of the liquid in his face.

"If you weren't like my brother, I'd fuckin' cut you," she stated in the midst of his sputtering, refusing to give him a moment to say anything. "But since you _are_, I'mma give ya a chance to save your ass."

"Thanks but no thanks."

"This isn't for you, asshole," she sneered, throwing a napkin at him. "I hate her sometimes, but she did a lot for me in New York and she deserves more. From both of us, but especially better than whatever you're trying to pull with this pansy ass shit."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Fuck if I know, but you need to figure it out in the next 10 minutes because she thinks she's meeting me for a drink but instead you're going to fix what you broke." Then she took his used napkin, balled it up, and threw it in his face, too, before giving one final cutting remark over her shoulder as she left. "Or remember this as the moment you completely ruined your life."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** So, first, an apology. The last "chapter" wasn't meant to scare anyone; it was just the best break in the story. Sorry. Haha. Second, thank you everyone for reading. I still can't believe this started as just the very first part of the first "chapter" and has turned into this mammoth (for me) of (technically) a oneshot. I partially blame everyone's support. Shame on all of you. ;)

I have a few other Puckleberry ideas, but I never know when the muse is going to play nice. So, until next time ...

* * *

Rachel giggled in his ear, the sound melodic but strangled as she attempted to catch her breath after he'd topped off their sexual escapade with an extra orgasm for her. It was just as much of a treat for him as it was her, but he'd also had an ulterior motive. Everything had been good between since the epic fight, but a lot of things were also in a weird state of limbo; they'd started to receive back their admissions letters from the colleges they'd applied to earlier, but they hadn't talked about any of it outside of stating pride and congratulations - or, twice for him, condolences for the rejection letters. And normally Puck was fine with not talking, but that was kind of what had gotten them in trouble last month, and he'd grown enough as a man and as a man in a relationship to understand the importance of communication. Still, he was Puck, so if he _was_ going to have to talk about his feelings and the future and equally heavy stuff, then they were going to do it while naked. Period.

"Hey," he rasped, jostling her a little to keep her from falling asleep until eventually moving her so they were lying side by side, face to face. "Can we, like, talk … about the whole college thing?"

She smiled even with her eyes closed. "You want to talk? Now?" She opened her eyes when he didn't respond, and her smile faded when she seemed to sense his seriousness. "Okay."

He considered putting it back in her court, making her confess first, but something forced him to open up. "I know Lima was never the plan, but … I can't hate it anymore." His eyes found hers as he scooted just a fraction closer, his shoulder that wasn't against the mattress shrugging helplessly. "I thought coming back here was the end, but … it feels like just the beginning now. With you and work and glee and just, with everything." He breathed heavily, his fingers skimming across her bare arm when she'd moved it to grasp his open palm on the bed. "And I'm not comparing you to Q or this to what happened between me and her, but … the long-distance thing scares me." He pushed some of her hair back behind her ear, giving her a full view into his eyes and vice versa. "So, I'm in for New York … I guess is what I'm tryin' to say."

Her eyes shifted down for only a moment, long enough for her to move so they were sharing a pillow, their bodies pressed together so tightly that each could feel the other's breath. Unfortunately, waiting for her response, Puck wasn't breathing.

"I don't hate Lima anymore, either." She smiled softly, her voice just above a whisper. "I'd dreamed of moving to New York and taking over Broadway, and I did. In spite of everything, I did. But I wasn't happy. Those old dreams didn't fit me, didn't fit the person I'd become, and it took moving back here to realize that my real dream is just to be happy. And it had seemed impossible then, but … I am. With glee and being closer to my fathers. And with you, I'm happy."

His soft embrace turned more and more passionate until they were lost in the throes of yet another sexual escapade. But, in the end - still naked - they talked more and they both decided to accept their admissions to the Ohio State University's Lima campus that was right on the other side of 75 … and to officially move in together. What could he say? When he swung, he aimed for the fences.

* * *

They'd helped chaperone prom at McKinley and the whole night had not been as horrible as he'd thought it was going to be. In fact, it had been kind of fun, but not in the same way it was when they were younger. He'd helped Rachel zip _up _her dress when they were getting ready, he'd made sure kids _didn't_ spike the punch during the dance, and, weirdest of all, he'd watched the glee kids have a good time with people _not in glee_. Their class wasn't like his and Rachel's had been; they were a tight group, but they had other friends, other hobbies (Rachel hated when people considered glee a hobby when she'd always thought of it as part of her career). Without having the burden of supplying the entertainment - Puck still loved that Rachel downright refused Sue's threats; it was hilarious to him that she was playing hardball when she barely had a leg to stand on - the kids had mingled with friends and danced with dates. Everything had been awesome up until the announcement of King and Queen. Jake had actually won, but Kitty had lost to some popular, senior cheerleader and had been _pissed_. And, unfortunately, during her particularly scathing rant (which he so hoped ended up on You-Tube), she'd ended up pouting that it only made sense that she won because she'd slept with the winner (Jake) _and_ his older brother (Puck).

Rachel, for her part, hadn't said a word about it the rest of the night. However, she'd also not said much of anything since the outburst, and upon entering their apartment, he figured it was best to just clear the air. "So, look, about Kitty ..."

"Please," she shook her head, waving her hand in dismissal once she'd finally undone the clasp on her left heel. "It's fine."

He furrowed his eyebrows, knowing it was a trap but not really sure how to get out of it. "Really?"

"I mean, I feel kind of silly only now knowing, especially considering the amount of time we've _all_ spent together courtesy of glee, but …" she trailed off then, tossing her removed shoes toward the rack by the doorway before looking at him and shrugging emptily. "It's not like you're the only one I've ever slept with."

He nodded in understanding and felt relief wash over him. But, as the seconds passed between her response and the silence that followed while she moved through the apartment to prepare for bed, the relief gave way to a much stronger emotion. One that he hadn't experienced in a very long time, if ever with such ferocity, and one that propelled him toward the bedroom. _Their_ bedroom. He watched her slip out of her dress and into her normal pajamas, but all he could think about was her doing the same thing somewhere else. _With someone else_. And she was absolutely right that neither of them had any right to be jealous or upset considering they both knew their pasts - he was thinking less of Finn and more of that douche Brody and whoever-the-hell else while she was in LA - but he couldn't help the possessiveness that overtook him in that moment.

"Hey," he practically barked, moving to the edge of the bed and literally pulling her toward him until her legs hung loosely at his sides and her eyes were wide and wild on his. "You're mine."

She lifted onto her elbows and gave that little smile that told him it _had_ been a trap but not the one he'd expected, before challenging, "Prove it."

* * *

Puck swiftly crossed the busy downtown street to reach the large building that housed a number of different offices. One floor was related to the medical field, with one side being a legit massage place and chiropractor while the other was a family dentist or something, but the rest of the building was almost exclusively business offices. He rode the elevator to the fifth floor and took a few deep breaths before finally opening the front office door for the law firm. The receptionist was a nice, old woman who he actually knew from her loyal business at the garage, but she also knew he was friends with the family, so she barely batted an eye when he motioned toward the back offices. There were stacks of paper piled high enough that it was almost hard to tell the older gentleman was sitting at his desk, but his head popped up enthusiastically when Puck knocked.

"Noah?" Hiram Berry said in way of greeting, his easy smile faltering a little as he took in what Puck knew was an unexpected visitor. "Is everything alright, son?"

"Yeah, of course," Puck shook his head, immediately squelching any worries Mr. Berry might have had relating to his precious daughter. He repeated the motion for LeRoy when he walked into the hallway, stopping in his tracks at the sight of Puck and then walking slowly toward the common area once relieved that the visit seemed casual. "Sorry to kinda barge in here, or whatever."

"Our doors are always open, but," LeRoy looked at Hiram, then back to Puck, "we were under the impression that you had to work tonight."

Puck nodded, knowing that was what he'd told Rachel and what she must have told them; she'd already informed him that she'd made plans to have dinner with her fathers. It was one of the reasons he'd considered aborting the whole mission - the Berry men weren't exactly great at keeping a secret, or their opinions to themselves. Nonetheless, he'd already made up his mind, and now he just had to do it quicker because he was on a time limit.

"Yeah, this won't take long - and, like, I know you don't drive, so I figured this would just be easier." Hiram seemed to melt a little at his consideration, and it bought Puck a little time to re-find his nerve. "I just, uh, wanted you guys to know that I'mma ask Rach to marry me."

He expected their shock, and it was a full 10 seconds before Hiram was able to stutter, "Wh-when?"

"I dunno." He shrugged, then cleared his throat. "And, like, no disrespect, but I'm not here askin' permission or whatever. I'mma do it either way, and I don't really expect your blessing since I'm sure you don't think anyone is good enough for her. Shit, I agree - almost definitely not me - but … she's kinda taught me to always try."

There was awe shining in both their eyes, but Puck knew them well enough to understand that they were probably thinking of Rachel and less about the words he'd just said. They knew better than him (better than anyone) the kind of effect Rachel could have on someone's life, as each of them had spent the past 21-plus years caring for her. They'd dedicated their entire lives to providing for their daughter, and he's sure to them she'd always be that ambitious, intense, driven little girl, so it was probably hard to even grasp the concept that someone could stand in front of them and think he could just take over that task.

"I know we haven't been dating long and we're still young, and you guys had an issue with that before, but," he breathed deeply, his eyes faltering for the first time the whole declaration, "if I learned anything about Finn dying, it's that we all don't have as much time as we think."

It was quiet again for nearly a minute, and Puck was just about to bob his head and walk out when Hiram cleared his throat. "Finn's death affected us all. We had to watch our daughter grieve, and then flounder as she tried to figure out how to move on from that grief."

"And we watched you, too," LeRoy added, tears shining in his eyes when he turned to face Puck. "We watched you struggle in so many of the same ways and … seeing you two come together and build what we've seen you build …"

"It's incredible, Noah," Hiram finished, his voice shaking just as much as LeRoy's but a smile on his face - the same awe-like one he'd had earlier when thinking of his daughter. "You've become a good man, son, and we couldn't imagine a better fit for Rachel."

Puck let out a strangled laugh, his head shaking in disbelief as their words seemed to echo in his mind. He'd come for no other reason than giving the two men a head's up, mainly because he wanted to be prepared for their objections. And even though it certainly wasn't the kind of manly conversation he'd envisioned missing out on because his own father had left when he was kid, their acceptance and approval meant more to Puck than he'd imagined it would; it filled a void that he hadn't realized was open, and made him even more okay with joining the Berry family.

* * *

Puck sprayed down another car after the kids had finished wiping away all the dirt, his eyes flicking over to the other station where Rachel was. The glee club was throwing a last-ditch fundraiser before Nationals, raising money by washing the cars of all the local perverts who wanted to see teenagers all wet and dressed in bathing suits. The weather was surprisingly nice (it was Ohio, so it was always shocking when it wasn't snowing, even in May), and they'd had a ton of traffic, but all of that mattered very little to Puck when the sound of Rachel's full-out laughter rang through the parking lot. She was wearing a pair of cut-off denim shorts that showed off nearly the entire expanse of her long legs, a stupid glee shirt everyone else was wearing (except the boys, like him, who'd tossed it in favor of working on their tan), and the biggest smile he'd seen on her face in a long time. Her eyes were covered by a pair of huge sunglasses and her hair was a little wavy from the weather mixing with the stray water droplets.

Basically, she looked amazing.

Legit, she always did, but he'd recently noticed that her hotness had reached a new level. And it wasn't because she was standing next to Coach Bieste - who he loved to death but wasn't doing them any favors by wearing her typical uniform of red polo, black shorts and white tube socks. Even without the sun, Rachel was practically glowing; she had a confidence about her that somehow amplified her sexiness, and he was never happier they were dating because he just _had _to tell her.

"Hey, Coach," he greeted as he walked over. "Nice knees."

Coach Bieste rolled her eyes, sarcasm dripping from her voice as she replied, "Yeah. Nice face."

He chuckled and accepted her playful (but still kind of hard) punch to the arm as she moved to the group he'd just abandoned, his attention quickly moving to his original target.

"She's not wrong," Rachel commented first, moving her sunglasses to the crown of her head and eyeing him suspiciously. "Your face is kind of weird right now."

"And here I came over to tell ya thatcha look smokin' today, but eff it."

She rolled her eyes, lifting onto her toes to kiss his cheek. "Thank you, Noah. I'd say the same for you, but the number of cars driven by women hoping to see you closer up without your shirt on speaks for itself." She gestured toward those waiting for their car washes, and he had to admit that one looked as if it had purposely drove through a mud puddle just to come back to the fundraiser. "All I meant by my original comment was that you had your pensive face on before coming over."

"Checkin' me out?" He asked jokingly, though he was really just using it to avoid the fact that she'd again forced him to lose his train of thought. He'd never really had a good time with a girl before, never been in a relationship where the girl was just as much his friend as anything else. It seemed to make all the difference considering how things were going between them, and even though he still felt like a pussy for thinking such, he hoped it would always be like this for them. And, if he was a homo for thinking that, then he was just plain stupid for thinking that, for them, maybe it could be.

"You seem happy."

She laughed at him, then seemed to sense that he looked almost bewildered by the notion. "I _am_ happy."

He couldn't help the smile that spread across his face, though he was slowly learning not to worry about those kinds of things; she'd taught him to be more open to his feelings, to not be ashamed of them. And, through trial and error, he'd learned that hiding them just lead to him fucking up the good feelings. So, to ensure that didn't happen (today), he smacked a kiss to her lips and smiled even wider. "I'm happy, too."

She giggled into another kiss, speaking against his lips for a moment. "I know." She pulled back, gesturing at his face with her finger. "That's your happy face."

He rolled his eyes because she was being cute just for the sake of being cute. And she wanted to seem like she was the only one paying attention, but he knew her pretty well, too. So when he saw that particular look in her eyes just as she made a slight change in her departure to move closer to the working hose, he knew better than to think it was just by chance. In fact, it would be a cold day in Hell before he was out-pranked by Rachel Berry, super hot or not.

"Think fast," he shouted to get her attention, throwing a large, soapy sponge at her. He was surprised when she caught it, but he was not surprised when she ended up with a soaked T-shirt and droplets of soap speckled across her face, hair and torso. "Ut oh," he chuckled, gesturing to her in the same manner she'd done to him earlier, "that looks like your angry, dwarf face."

Her eyes narrowed even more than they'd already had, her voice tight but powerful. "You are going to pay for that, Noah Puckerman."

He just laughed, taking back his post by one of the cars and winking at her. "Bring it."

* * *

He couldn't remember ever being as nervous when it was him on stage, but he could barely keep still when the glee kids hurried onto the stage to get into position for their set. Nationals this year was in Nashville, which he thought sucked as far as locations could have gone despite Rachel's constant teasing that he was secretly happy since he loved country music. Nonetheless, the kids were getting ready to start their performance, and he was still having trouble believing they were actually _here_. It really shouldn't be that surprising considering Rachel's talent just sort of rubbed off on anyone she interacted with, but he was still a little shocked.

"I'm so nervous," she admitted quietly, her voice higher than usual. "I don't even know why." Her left hand gripped his right, squeezing tightly as the lights changed and the first chords of music started. "This just feels like … like I found something that matters, something that combines all the things I love." She exhaled sharply the second the first vocal note was sung. "It sounds silly, but it would absolutely crush me if we lose, because then it would prove that maybe I'm not good enough at those things."

It was never the plan, and it certainly wasn't going to help his stress level, but something about the moment felt perfect. They were standing side by side, watching something that they'd made flourish (legit, the kids were killing it on stage), supporting one another fully. Her hand was nestled in his, and even though both their eyes were on the stage, they still were so connected to one another that it almost took his breath away (if he weren't suddenly breathing more heavily from the panic).

"Ya know," he started nervously, her hand being in his the only thing keeping it from shaking uncontrollably, "I kinda feel the same about you."

Eventually, her gaze drifted off the glee kids and onto him, her eyes questioning his statement until he angled his body so they were face to face instead of next to one another - then her mouth questioned him because he hadn't let go of her hand and his eyes had fallen to one particular digit. He'd wanted this moment to be special, for it to feel perfect and for him to say all the right things. But, while it had felt like the right time, the words weren't as easy for him to perfect.

"Win or lose, marry me."

"What?" She asked, the shock in her voice clear as day given the kids had finished their number and now were being joined on stage by all the other competitors to see who'd be crowned victor. But, instead of repeating himself, Puck merely lowered to one knee and pulled a small box out of his breast pocket; Nana Connie had given him the ring, and he'd been carrying it around every day since he'd talked to Rachel's fathers. Her loose hand flew to her mouth, her eyes welling with tears when she finally pulled her gaze away from the ring to him. The silence seemed so much worse when even the crowd was quiet waiting for the emcee to announce the winner, but the enthusiastic nod of her head was loud and clear.

"Yes," she whispered just before New Directions claimed the top spot, the roar of the crowd nothing compared to the steady chanting of her love for him in his ear as he hugged and spun her around.

Definitely not a bad night, even for Tennessee.

* * *

Puck accepted a glass of the red punch from Emma, smiling gratefully before turning around and looking around the room. They'd spent the better part of the morning packed in the auditorium for the graduation ceremony, and now they were still on school grounds for a final goodbye to the glee kids in the choir room. Everyone was still reeling from their Nationals victory, the buzz in the room impossible to kill despite the fact that Sue had not confirmed whether she'd grant the glee club another year. Both he and Rachel were fully prepared to defend the club if need be, but that new, weird, optimistic side of him didn't think a fight would be necessary.

"Hey, Puck," Mr. Schue greeted easily, approaching the young man with a wide smile. "How's things?"

"No complaints, Mr. Schue."

The old director shook his head, lowering his voice as he angled himself just a little more closely into Puck's personal space. "I know we're guys, but we can still talk." He nudged Puck in the arm, his smile back even though his eyes were serious. "I know it's not Rachel, so fess up."

Puck chuckled at the older gentleman, mostly just because he wondered when everything had gotten so flipped. Like, when did Mr. Schue become one of his mentors, someone he actually looked up to? Even now he maintained that the guy's life basically sucked, which made even less sense since Puck was preparing to start schooling for a career in the education field. But, regardless, Will was probably the one person who might be able to help him.

"How do you do it, year after year?" He asked quietly, his eyes again raking over the room and wondering how he was supposed to just pretend like he didn't care that he wouldn't see these kids for three months - some for much longer than that, if ever; it was tough thinking about Jake going away for school (he'd accepted a scholarship to Michigan, which was only like 2 hours away, but still), but Ryder was moving to Seattle and Puck was pretty sure this would be the last he saw of him. "Like, saying goodbye?"

"Honestly, it's the hardest part," Mr. Schue admitted, him looking around, too. "And I really don't have a great answer, because I really struggled with it with your class; you guys changed my life so much, and it was hard for me to not have you guys around anymore." He cleared his throat, and somehow both their eyes drifted to Finn's plaque. "I've learned that it's less about the goodbye, though, and more about starting over. Every year, I have this incredible opportunity to make a difference in kids' lives, and they have the same opportunity."

Keeping with the theme, their eyes both seemed to magically filter through the crowd to land on Rachel, watching her interact joyfully with a group of freshmen (turning sophomores) who were playing some ridiculous card game no one really knew the rules to. "She's happy now, Puck, and you did that. You gave her the chance to start over, to start again … and that's exactly what your class gave me and what I hope to give at least one student each new year. Another chance." He cleared his throat, finally looking at the younger man. "Don't ever take that kind of opportunity for granted."

Puck bobbed his head in understanding, screwing back on his patented smirk when Sarah came over and started to tease him about something that had happened at his graduation. Eventually Marley, Unique and some of the other seniors joined in on the rousing, until finally Rachel came over with her own observation. He laughed with her, sliding an arm across her shoulders and kissing her temple softly. She looked up at him quizzically, and he just shrugged because he knew the gentleness didn't exactly make sense given he was the butt of everyone's jokes.

He just didn't want to take any moment for granted.

* * *

Puck chuckled at the way Mike spun into his toss, much of his amusement fading when the Asian landed the bullseye and effectively ended their game of darts. It was his third loss in a row, and only in a matter of about 20 minutes, so he was more than willing when Mike suggested they move back out to the main area and see who else had arrived; almost everyone was in town for one reason or another (summer being the main one), so Rachel had suggested they all come to Ray's to hang out. Really she wanted them to announce their engagement together to their friends (instead of to Kurt and then watch the fire burn from there), but it had been a long time since they'd all been in the same room, too.

"You better have a good reason for making me come back into this dump, is all I'm sayin'."

"You've been here before?" Artie questioned Santana, looking around. "I never even knew this place existed."

"Really?" Brittany blinked, pointing to the opposite wall. "The porn shop next door is incredible."

"Fuck," Puck interrupted with a laugh, throwing his arm around the blonde and kissing her cheek lightly. "I've missed you, Britt."

"Me too," Sam agreed, though Santana seemed to glare at him more than she had Puck. He must have sensed it, too, because he awkwardly cleared his throat before changing the subject. "It's cool that we could all meet up like this."

"Well, almost all," Rachel pointed out, still a little upset Quinn gave some lame excuse for why she couldn't make it tonight despite being within city limits. Puck couldn't care less.

"Whatever. She's a bitch," Santana said, echoing the thoughts rolling through his mind. "And a terrible lay, just like Puckerman said." The Latina eyed Rachel. "Although you could be, too; I never could convert you." She winked suggestively, though her pinkie stayed clasped with Brittany's. "What do ya say, Fun Size? Wanna make it a sweep?"

Rachel rolled her eyes, clearly used to such lewd remarks courtesy of Puck. "Since everyone is here, I think we can go ahead and make the announcement."

"If this is about glee, Kurt already told us," Blaine piped in, laughing when Kurt purposely avoided everyone's eye contact.

Sue had made a big spectacle out of the whole thing, forcing both Rachel and Puck to sign insane contracts with ridiculous clauses (that were deemed completely illegal after Rachel had her fathers look them over), but eventually the glee club was officially reinstated for the coming year. And, less because of the contracts and more because of the chatter the group had earned through the year and after their win, Sue even had to set aside some of the school budget to fund the extra-curricular activity. The only condition that remained in the agreement was that both Puck and Rachel had to be working full-time on earning their degrees, which was another reason Rachel had asked everyone to visit; they'd have to take classes year-round to make up for the time they lost, and everyone else would be gearing up for "the real world" in the coming year, too.

"Congratulations, by the way," Tina offered, giggling when Mercedes said nearly the same thing at the same time; they'd been one of the first few to arrive, and they clearly started drinking earlier than the others given their ultra-light mood.

"Thank you," Rachel stated genuinely, then looked to Puck for a segue.

He looked down at her like she was crazy, which was basically his standard expression, but managed to wink to ease her nerves before blurting out, "I'mma marry Berry."

"Noah," she chastised lightly, her eyes lifting in exasperation before falling to her best friend's face - just like everyone else.

"Duh." Kurt exclaimed, seemingly bored with the news. He shook his head while everyone just stared at him, finally summing up his less-than-shocked reaction with, "I could have told you that years ago."


End file.
